Reckless

Part 5

Cassy pressed her back against the metal siding of the building, the chill of the aluminum penetrating through her lightweight silk blouse, sending a shiver down her spine. She grasped her gun more firmly, taking comfort of having its weight in the palm of her hand.

God, she wished Tom were here, but circumstances prevented her waiting for him. She couldn't follow standard procedure. Gwen Moore was dead, brutally murdered by that monster. She had been savagely attacked by the man who had also taken the life of young Sarah Barbara; the same man who had tortured and killed the teenage Jane Doe a few months before.

It was during that investigation that Tom and Cassy had chased this same man through an abandoned warehouse, but Tom had halted the pursuit. He insisted that the detectives wait for backup, and as a result, Jason Slater had escaped. The killer had alluded capture. Cassy was furious with Tom for not having the guts to take the man on. Had they done their job and made the arrest, Slater would have never had the opportunity to hurt another innocent. Their failure. . .Tom's fear. . .had caused the death of two more women.

Cassy's mind replayed the events that had led her to this pursuit. She had entered Gwen Moore's quiet studio. She called out, announcing her arrival, but received no response. She proceeded down the hallway to the owner's office and found the blood-covered body of the woman. She called Tom to inform him of the surprising turn of events and then heard the creak of floorboards from the back of the building. Realizing she was not alone, she called out a warning to the unknown intruder and then found herself face-to-face with Jason Slater. The man was as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She could hear Tom's voice calling out to her over the mobile phone, but before she could answer, she found herself exchanging gunfire with the murderer.

He had bolted for the back door of the building and Cassy followed. The thought that she was alone in the pursuit of the man tickled the back of her mind. She was vulnerable. Slater, once again, knew the area better than she, giving him a distinct advantage.

Cassy had followed the sound of the retreating footsteps down the dark alley. Exiting the passageway, she saw Slater's fleeing shadow round the corner of a nearby warehouse.

She ran as fast as her feet would carry her. Fear-laced guilt gnawed at her as she felt the weight of her phone in her pocket. She knew she should stop and call her partner, but every second that delayed the pursuit increased the chances that Jason Slater would again avoid capture.

She followed the man around the corner of the building and saw an access door leading into the warehouse closing on quiet hydraulics. She now leaned against that same building, quieting her breathing, thinking through her options. The murderer was trapped in the building. She had no choice but to follow him inside.

She was not going to let Slater escape a second time. She would not permit him to hurt another child. However, the building was too large for her to cover on her own. She needed help if she was going to bring the man into custody. Pulling the phone out of her pocket, she raised the antenna with her teeth and hit the direct dial number for Tom's phone. The first ring had not finished when Tom's panicked voice came over the line. "Cassy?"

"Tom, it's Slater. Back door. Warehouse to the east." Cassy shot out the words, knowing her partner would understand.

"Jason Slater?" Tom asked, waiting for a response. None came. Then Tom yelled out, "Cassy! Wait for me!"

She shook her head as memories of the dead assaulted her once again. Cassy clicked off her phone and returned it to her pocket. "Sorry, Thomas. Can't wait."

*****************

Tom felt a surge of fury and fear rise up into his chest. "Cassy! Wait for me!" Tom yelled. "Damn it, Cassy!" Tom screamed, knowing that no one heard the words. He slammed his phone shut and ran for the back door. As he entered the alley, he could hear the sound of sirens approaching. The additional backup didn't matter, though. His partner wouldn't wait. She was already in full Jane Wayne mode. She was in pursuit of a murderer and she would not rest until she had her man.

Tom saw the warehouse to the east of the photography studio. Racing to the building, gun drawn, he rounded the corner. There was no one there. He was alone. Debating his next course of action, he couldn't help ducking when he heard the explosion of a gunshot. There was no doubt that the sound had come from the interior of the building. Cassy was inside with the murderer.

Spotting the door, he reached for the handle and pulled it open, making sure not to stand in the open entryway itself. With the backlighting from the alley, he would be too easy of a target.

Peeking around the corner, he could see nothing. The interior of the building was dark, with only a few street lamps shining through windows providing illumination.

God, this was all too familiar. The last time Cassy and he had been in pursuit of Jason Slater, they had found themselves chasing the killer through the same type of building. They had been sitting ducks then. They were sitting ducks now.

There was no doubt in Tom's mind that Jason Slater knew the layout of the large building better than the cops who were pursuing him. That knowledge gave him a distinct advantage. . .an advantage which could be deadly to the detectives.

 

****************

Cassy had followed the footsteps to the back of the dark building. Visibility was poor and the rows of shelving and large wooden crates, stacked twenty feet tall, blocked her view. The sound of each breath she took echoed in her head. She feared that Slater could hear the sound, but there was no time to rest. She had to find this man.

Gun drawn, she approached the first aisle, finding it empty. Feeling a mix of relief and frustration, she made her way to the next row. It was vacant as well. She proceeded to the next. Each time she prepared to round a corner, she felt a surge of adrenaline race through her chest. Spinning around the next corner, she was met with another sense of failure. This aisle, like the rest, was also empty. Another fearful fact struck her. The deeper into the building she moved, the darker it was becoming. The street lighting was not sufficient. Shadows and black night surrounded her. She willed her vision to improve and prayed that when the time came, she'd be able to see Slater.

********************

Tom wanted to scream Cassy's name. He needed to know where his partner was. However, if she revealed her location to him, she would also be revealing her location to Jason Slater, which could be disastrous. So, instead, Tom was forced to silently make his way through the building and hope like hell he would be there to backup his partner if and when she needed his assistance.

He made his way into the bowels of the building, approaching aisle after aisle of shelves and crates. The boxes were stacked over two stories tall. There was no seeing around or through them and the blackness of night made the situation even more precarious. However, Tom proceeded into the dark, knowing instinctually, that was where Slater was. . .as well as his partner. He approached the rows and began the slow process of searching each one.

 

********************

Cassy took a deep breath and rounded the next aisle. To her surprise, she saw a shadowy figure running away from her. "Stop, Slater!" she screamed and then fired. The figure turned the corner, ignoring her command and the bullet missed the target. Cassy raced after the fleeing figure, stopping short of the end of the row. She cautiously peeked around the corner. No one was there. Calming her nerves and concentrating all of her senses on the job ahead, she charged around the bend. She moved to the next aisle, hoping that this time, she would not fail.

*******************

 

Tom heard Cassy's voice echo through the building. He started to shout out to her but then bit his tongue, knowing that announcing his location would take away any element of surprise that the detective duo had on the man. So Tom pushed his way forward, cautiously scanning each row for either his partner or the murderer.

He then spotted a shadowy form running down an aisle towards him. By its tall, slim shape, Tom knew it was Slater. It was obvious the killer had not spotted him in the dark. Tom pressed his body between two columns of crates. He could hear heavy footsteps coming closer. Did he try to get off a shot at the criminal and take a chance of missing him in the dark or did he try some other tactic? Deciding to go with a sure thing, Tom waited for the man to approach. He pushed his gun into its holster and prepared to throw his entire weight at the criminal. Timing would be everything, but his football days had given him that ability.

He felt, rather than saw, Slater run by his position. Tom leaped from his hiding place and tackled the man, hitting him chest high and wrapping his arms around the thin man's waist. Surprised, Slater's finger tightened on the trigger of his gun and the sound of a discharged bullet filled the air. Simultaneously, a second explosion echoed in Tom's ears and a burst of white hot fire stabbed into his chest, taking away his breath and his strength.

The combined weight of the men collided into the crates and a grunt of pain escaped from Tom's throat. He couldn't think. . .he couldn't breath. All he could do was feel his body slide helplessly to the cold cement floor, feeling the bony body of Jason Slater struggling beneath him.

Upon impact with the floor, Slater dropped his gun. It slid between two crates. The murderer ignored the weapon and instead, kicked out at his attacker, catching the already-injured detective in the side of the head. The police officer's weight pinned Slater to the ground, but no move was made to subdue the killer. Squirming out of the larger man's grasp, Slater slithered away, climbed to his feet and began running again.

Tom attempted to push himself from the floor, but the pain in his chest prevented any movement. He thought about retrieving his own gun from its holster, but his arms wouldn't obey the orders his mind was giving. Powerless to stop the escape, Tom watched the fleeing man. Within seconds Slater would disappear around the bend and allude capture once again. Then a third explosion sounded and Slater's back arched, his legs stopped moving, his body jerked and then he collapsed lifelessly into the crates and fell to the floor.

Tom felt a surge of satisfaction rush through his body, but then the stabbing pain in his chest over took him and his vision faded to black.

 

End Part 5

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